


Proof of Payment

by ColetheWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Stiles, Breeding, Cock Slut, Copious Amounts of Cum, Derek is their landlord, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Power Imbalance, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stiles and Jackson are slutty boyfriends, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Derek, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy, bottom!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Living together as college boyfriends, Stiles and Jackson are two months behind on their rent payment and their aggressively grumpy landlord, Derek, is done putting up with it. So, naturally...Stiles and Jackson offer up a little mischievous sexual fun to keep their debt at bay and their landlord satisfied.





	Proof of Payment

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my "unfinished fics" folder for quite some time, but I finally got around to finishing it. I don't know how...but this ended up WAY dirtier than I had originally planned....so, I hope you guys enjoy it! Also, I don't know if I've ever written Stiles & Jackson before, which was pretty fun to do.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

It was almost eight o’clock in the evening and Stiles had just finished up his last class for the day. He stumbled tirelessly into his apartment, nearly crashing down onto the floor, and letting out an exaggerated groan of exhaustion. He closed the door behind himself and tossed his backpack down onto the wooden floor of the apartment, catching a glimpse of where his boyfriend was lounging out on the couch. He envied the hell out of Jackson’s tame college schedule.

“I fucking hate you.” Stiles sneered, sluggishly wandering over to the safety of the couch.

Jackson sighed, scrolling through his stockpile of Grindr inbox messages. “I told you to switch your classes before the semester started, but you’re fucking stubborn. So, have fun suffering for the next few months.”

“I want my required classes done with and out of my way.” Stiles argued, kicking off his shoes. “After that, I’ll basically just get to relax in an orgy of elective courses.”

“Yeah, well have fun short-circuiting tomorrow when you have to wake up at six in the morning while I stick around in bed.” Jackson deadpanned.

Stiles instinctively rolled his eyes at Jackson’s snarky pessimism. Though, he wasn’t too bothered by it. He had gone through years of dealing with Jackson’s sharp and naturally antagonistic personality, which gave Stiles a slight immunity to its affects. Not to mention the dick was great and their relationship seemed to thrive on their back and forth of insults and arguments.

“Are you finding anybody worthwhile?” Stiles asked, gesturing towards Jackson’s phone.

Jackson huffed, tossing his phone across the room to an empty chair. “We’ve fucked around with practically everybody in this damn area. Does nobody new ever move into this town or something?”

Stiles slouched down into the couch, throwing his hands behind his head, and kicking his feet up to rest atop the coffee table. “That’s what we get for being sluts. I guess we’re just going to have to check out the scene at Jungle tonight—”

A thundering series of knocks rapped against the front door, interrupting Stiles’ dirty suggestion for the rest of the night. He threw his hands up in annoyance with the unyielding noise, jumped up from where he was sitting, and marched over to the door. To his surprise, it was their landlord—Derek, who had a propensity of being a real pain in the ass whenever things in the world seemed extra shitty. For some reason, he had a sixth sense for those kinds of things.

But Derek’s shitty personality was somewhat forgiven for his own attractiveness. There weren’t many dudes in Beacon Hills who could stand up to the broadness of Derek’s shoulders and the beefiness of his muscles—which always did seem to stretch so obscenely against the fabric of his shirts. Derek’s eyes were piercing green, his hair was shadow black, and the sharp stubble on his face made him one of the few prized items in the town. And just about everybody wanted a ride. Stiles and Jackson were not an exception. 

Stiles swung open the door angrily. “What the fuck is up with the assault on my door, asswipe.”

“It’s my fucking door!” Derek returned cruelly, with a growled rasp to his voice. His eyes gleamed with genuine ferocious anger, which wasn’t abnormal. It was quite typical. “You only pay to live here—oh, wait, you’re behind two months on the rent and I’m here to collect it.”

“Well, would it kill you to ask a little nicer?”

“Actually, yes.” Derek responded dryly. “I’ve waited long enough for my money and I don’t need this shit. When I come back tomorrow, you better have the twenty-five hundred ready or I’ll find another two dumbass college cumstains to take this place off of your hands.”

“Hey—” Jackson piped up from where he was sitting on the couch, standing up and walking over to stand behind Stiles. “You think you can threaten the son of an attorney? I know my fucking rights. You can’t evict us without a proper thirty-day notice. So, maybe you wanna rethink that threat?”

Derek seemed drowned with rage, pushing his way into the apartment—pressing his index finger into the meat of Jackson’s chest. “You’re going to pay up or you’re getting the fuck out. And with the way things look at the moment, I suggest you spend tonight picking up some empty boxes instead of picking out which dude you want to drag up here for some breeding session.”

Stiles snorted laughter. “Oh, so that’s what this is about. You’re pissed at us because your balls have been blue for the past several years, while we’re up here painting your precious rental with our cum. Hey, maybe nobody wants to fuck you because you’re a gaping asshole of shitty personality.”

Derek swung around and grabbed Stiles by the throat—pushing him backwards until the boy slammed back into the front door—shutting it closed. The two stared at each other, locked in a battle for dominance. Stiles was only slightly intimidated, but pleasantly aroused by Derek’s brute forcefulness. He always had a thing for hot-tempered dudes, especially since they always knew how to fuck that anger into whoever they wanted to bang.

“Watch your mouth.” Derek mumbled, analyzing Stiles’ facial expression and body language.

“Listen—” Stiles started, kneeing gently upwards into Derek’s crotch. “—we don’t have your money right now and there’s no way that we’re going to be able to get you everything by tomorrow. Can we try working out some sort of deal? Just something to tie over your money hunger for a couple more weeks.”

Derek looked down to where the boy’s knee was pressed up against his crotch, letting his own eyebrow raise in slight interest to the suggestion. He looked back up to Stiles’ face, noticing the expression of smug false innocence written all over his face. It was obvious that Stiles was trying to play coy—as if he didn’t know what he was doing. As if he didn’t know how he was affecting Derek’s body. But Derek wasn’t dumb. If a couple college guys wanted to fuck away their money troubles for a couple extra weeks of freedom, Derek wasn’t going to turn down the offer.

“My expectations are pretty high for the neighbor sluts, so you better impress me.” Derek said, bringing his thumb up to rub across Stiles’ plush lips. “I think I’m going to start over there with Abercrombie. How’s that sound?”

The two housemates looked at one another and shrugged in agreement with the unfolding situation. Derek released his grasp on Stiles and walked over to the available couch. He sat down—letting his legs rest obscenely open to the delights of the two roommates. And from where the two stood, Stiles and Jackson raked their eyes over every part of Derek’s body, analyzing the muscles that they could see under the tightness of his clothes.

“Are you just going to stand over there with that dumb expression on your face or are you going to put your mouth to some fucking use?” Derek asked impatiently, rubbing down at where he was growing thicker under the weight of his constrictive pants.

Jackson rolled his shoulders—preparing himself from the inevitable. He sauntered over to where Derek laid back on the couch and then immediately dropped to his knees to rest in-between the man’s spread legs. With ease, Jackson tugged Derek’s pants and boxers down to his burly thighs. He watched with peaked interest—feeling goosebumps flare across his own skin—as Derek’s thickness shot out from its confines to spear into the air.

Just as soon as the raunchy smell of heat and musk struck the air, Jackson felt his brain momentarily spasm with desire. He swallowed and instinctively brought one of his hands up to rub at his neck, mentally working through what it would feel like to suck Derek off. The size alone was worrisome, yet enticing. And mixed with the overwhelming brutality of Derek’s personality, Jackson was certain that he wouldn’t be spared when it came to the tameness and speed of Derek’s eager fucking.

Tentatively, Jackson wrapped his fingers around Derek’s shaft—marveling at the incredible size. Derek’s girth was comparable to a can of beer and as far as length was concerned, the arrogant attitude that seemed to waft off of Derek’s presence was certainly fueled by his proud eight inches. Challenges and uniqueness were fairly rare when it came down to sexual escapades in Beacon Hills, but Derek was apparently up for breaking out of the norm.

Stiles watched from the sidelines as Jackson used both of his hands to stroke Derek’s cock with slow, languid motions. From where he stood, Stiles slipped his own hand down into the front of his jeans so that he could tug at himself in anticipation. Meanwhile, he studied the way that Derek had his head tilted back—lost to the feeling of somebody else’s hands working him over. He studied the sharp curvature of Derek’s jaw, the chest hair that seemed to sprout powerfully from the neckline of the shirt he was wearing, and on the muscle of his spread thighs.

Derek cupped Jackson’s face and looked down—flashing a wicked smile. He moved his hand back to the nape of the boy’s neck and pulled Jackson downward so that he could put his mouth to the expected use. And much to Derek’s satisfaction, Jackson started to mouth heavily at where Derek was pumped full of raging heat. He licked generously at the leaking head and trailed down the shaft with the wetness of his tongue, before finally drawing Derek into his mouth for the first time.

There was no time to waste on mediocre foreplay and gentleness. Derek wasn’t a timid college boy with his heart in the right place. The only thing that he actually wanted was sex and his rent money, but since he wasn’t going to get his money, sex was the next best thing. So he didn’t hold back with his sexual brutality and immediately plunged his cock into Jackson’s open throat—gagging the boy roughly and stealing his breath like a vicious thief.

Jackson’s cheeks puffed out in desperation and his throat lurched with urgency. He did what he could manage and started to bob up and down—slurping wildly at Derek’s leaking length. Jackson drooled and spat down onto Derek’s shaft, jerking him off in the intermediate moments between getting deepthroated and taking a breath. Of course, Jackson gulped down air like a starved cockslut whenever Derek provided him with the pleasure to do so.

“You can do better than that.” Derek purred, slapping carefully at the side of Jackson’s face. “I’ve heard all about you and your little boyfriend’s reputations in this neighborhood. So you’re gonna choke on my cock—slobber on it like a slut. And then I’m gonna fuck your wasted little hole.”

Jackson hummed in agreement. He continued to suck and work his tongue around the more sensitive parts of Derek’s cock. He lapped heavily around the head, dipped slightly into the slit, and eventually mouthed his way down to suckle at Derek’s heavy balls. Though, it only lasted a moment before Derek grabbed Jackson by the back of the head and brought him back up to take it down his throat.

As Derek continued to abuse Jackson’s throat, he kept his eyes locked onto Stiles from across the room. Whenever he grunted out an obscenity or slurred out a demand to Jackson, he kept his eyes on Stiles—making it clear that Derek wasn’t too keen on leaving Stiles out of the equation. Derek wanted to make it known that Stiles wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines like an innocent puppy. If anything, Stiles was likely just as much of a slut as Jackson, which meant that Derek had no plans to spare Stiles for the pleasurable use he could provide.

“You know, this was all my idea.” Stiles piped up, stepping forward into the action.

“Oh, is somebody feeling left out?” Derek asked insincerely, shoving Jackson off of his cock. “You’re right. I’m not giving you the attention you deserve. I started with the wrong mouth—especially since you’re the one who never knows how to shut the fuck up. So get on your knees and one-up your boyfriend.”

Derek stood up from the couch and walked over to stand in front of Stiles. His cock stuck out proudly, prodding into Stiles’ front side—smearing precum and Jackson’s saliva onto the college boy’s shirt. And without hesitation, Derek shoved down on Stiles’ broad shoulders—roughly dropping the boy down to his knees. He gave himself a couple strokes and bat the weight of his heavy cock against the delicateness of Stiles’ face.

“You’re a real asshole.” Stiles whispered, shaking his head in a humorous disapproving nature.

Derek scoffed, taking advantage of Stiles’ decision to speak as the perfect opportunity to press his cock into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles’ eyes widened momentarily and then glossed over with lust. His eyelashes fluttered shut as he began to work his lips and tongue around Derek. He could actually feel the head of Derek’s cock ram against the back of his throat with each thrust—making his eyes sting with tears and his throat burn.

The pornographic moans only further enticed Derek to the situation. They acted as fuel. Roughly, Derek firmly clasped his hands at the sides of Stiles’ head, holding him in place as he continued to ram down the boy’s throat with increasing speeds. The barrage of choked off gags and the occasional inhale of breath seemed to intensify the whole experience. All the while, the rhythm of Derek’s heavy balls bombarding against Stiles’ chin added something extra.

Jackson watched in muted jealously. He felt as though he was way more talented when it came down to giving blowjobs. At least he incorporated some technique. Meanwhile, Stiles just stuck around there on his knees like some helpless little bitch, getting his throat destroyed by the big brute of a landlord. What the fuck was up with Stiles not being able to wait his turn like a decently patient cocksucker. Of course he just had to go and blurt out, shifting Derek’s focus away from what he had started with originally.

“You’re pretty good at this, kid.” Derek grunted, pulling roughly at Stiles’ sweaty hair. “I didn’t actually believe _all_ of those rumors I’ve been hearing around the neighborhood about you. Word has it that you occasionally spend the weekends swallowing a couple dozen loads from the sleazy married dudes who wander into that rest-stop off the main interstate. The ones who are looking for a discreet mouth to fuck into.”

Stiles pulled off with a wheezed laugh and cough. “And what do you think about those rumors now?”

Derek slapped Stiles across the face, then squeezed the boy’s jaw in-between his index finger and thumb, turning Stiles’ head from side-to-side as if graciously inspecting his prize. “Given how desperate you were to drop to your knees for an extension on your rent’s due date, it wouldn’t surprise me if the rest areas in this area had big plagues with your name engraved into them, thanking you for your services.”

“At least _I_ put in effort.” Jackson interrupted, rounding where Derek was standing.

Derek clicked his tongue, looking down judgingly at where Stiles remained knelt down. “In a way, he’s got a point, Stiles. Your throat might know how to take a nice beating, but Abercrombie over here put in just a tad bit more effort when it came to mouthwork.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles scoffed, wiping his mouth with his own hand.

“Well—?” Derek said, looking over to where Jackson was proudly standing. “The only thing that I hate more than not getting my rent is a cockslut that prides himself too much on his own dirty tricks. Get Stiles on the fucking couch and teach him how to suck a fucking cock. I’ll watch.”

Jackson motioned for Stiles to stand up, watching as his boyfriend stood up with a pout on his puffy lips and a gleam of lustrous wrath in his hazel eyes. He just rolled his eyes in response and then led Stiles over to their couch. Whilst Jackson sat himself down onto the comfort of the cushion and tugged down his pants and boxers, Stiles got right back down onto his knees—right in-between his open legs.  There was nothing hotter than a slightly pissed off Stiles about to suck dick, Jackson swore by it.

“Do it the way you did for my birthday.” Jackson slurred, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Stiles’ wet lips.

Stiles hummed in reluctant agreement. He craned his neck downward and licked a soft stripe up the shaft of Jackson’s flushed cock, right up to the fattened head, and the wiggled the tip of his tongue ever-so-slightly against Jackson’s sensitive, leaking cockslit. Jackson’s body immediately shivered at the sensation and Stiles couldn’t help by huff out a satisfied laugh against where Jackson was twitching and aching. He knew that he’d make Jackson regret pretending as though he gave better blowjobs.

Derek moved around the stand beside the two lovebirds so that he could see everything that was happening. He watched with bated breath as Stiles lapped slowly around the head of Jackson’s leaking cock, swallowing down the ooze of precum that splattered against his tongue. He found himself entranced by the way that Stiles’ throat bulged and gulped as he took more and more of Jackson’s thick length into his mouth. At the same time, Derek could bust at the sight of Jackson’s pale cheeks flushing red with arousal as he thrust his hips upward into Stiles’ face.

“Come here.” Derek growled.

Derek bent down and twisted Jackson’s face to the side, just enough so that he could take Jackson’s lips in for a passionate kiss. Stiles continued to work his mouth around Jackson’s cock, enthusiastically bobbing up and down, spilling out uncontrollable sounds of strained gags and slurps into the apartment. But as the sound of Derek and Jackson making out filled his ears, a ping of jealously set fire to Stiles’ inners, compelling him to fight for Jackson’s attention.

Stiles momentarily pulled away from Jackson’s cock and turned to focus on mouthing at Jackson’s balls. He gently sucked them into his mouth, playing with them with his tongue. All the while, he wrapped one of his hands around where Jackson was still throbbing and hot with explicit desire. He twisted his grip around Jackson’s shaft with each upward stroke and then took the blond stud back down his throat. He continued to suck, pulling back to nibble delicately at Jackson’s foreskin—using the bluntness of his teeth in the special way that he knew Jackson liked.

“Ah, fuck—keep doing that!” Jackson groaned, halting his kiss with Derek. He looked down to where Stiles was positioned between his thighs and sighed out in pleasure. “Don’t fucking stop. You know I like it when you do that.”

“That’s a good boy.” Derek complimented down to Stiles.

Derek moved over just enough so that he could reach down and palm the back of Stiles’ head, taking control of the situation. As he jerked himself off with one hand, he used his other to set the rhythm of Stiles’ mouthwork—going as far as to control how much of Jackson’s cock got stuffed down Stiles’ throat. They continued on without rest for several more minutes, with Derek behind the wheel. Needless to say, Derek got off on control and dominance. And from the looks of Jackson and Stiles’ flushed faces, they liked it too.  

“Okay—” Stiles grumbled, halting the strain of his own throat. “—My fucking jaw isn’t made of steel, dammit. I need a break.”

Derek laughed, taking a moment to observe the plump redness of Stiles’ spit-slicked lips. “I’m not barbaric.” He said in a sarcastically mocking tone. “I’ll give your guys’ throats a little break. So how about the both of you get up on the couch, turn around, and stick out your asses for me.”

Jackson shifted around from his sitting position so that his bare ass was prominently on display in the air, whilst he remained bent over the back of the couch. Stiles followed in suit, clumsily shoving down his own pants and boxers, then shuffling into the same submissive positioning as Jackson. The two housemates stared at one another for a moment, utterly aroused by the continued sequence of events for the night.

Derek stood behind the two; pausing for a moment to look at how beautifully presentable Stiles and Jackson looked all spread out for him. The two of them were still fully clothed, excluding the fact that their pants were tugged down to rest below the curve of their fuckable asses. And yet, there was something so enchantingly arousing at the fact that the two college boys had been so ready for a fuck that neither of the two had even bothered with undressing.

As Derek spat down onto each of the two’s individual holes, Stiles and Jackson began to make out with one another—fiercely chasing each other’s tastes and passionately clashing their teeth together in a sloppy fury. Derek hummed in gratification whilst he started to finger both of the two waiting holes that remained before him. And much to Derek’s pleasure, the bluntness of his digits prodding into Stiles and Jackson produced sweet sounds from the pair. As he picked up the speed, the sounds grew louder.

Stiles and Jackson swallowed down each other’s moans, occasionally pulling away to catch their breaths whilst they stared at one another—eyes half-lidded in sluggish lust. Their bodies shivered with thrill as Derek stood behind them, finger-fucking them with damaging authority. Their ears drank in all of the mumbled dirty promises that spilled from Derek’s lips. And neither of them could quite shake their own increasing anticipation of getting fucked by what Derek was packing. Their throats had already been subject to the brutal force, but Stiles and Jackson wanted more.

“Are you going to wait until your fingers are all tired out, or are you going to put that dick to use?” Jackson crudely asked, somewhat out of his own mind with arousal.

“Since you’re so damn desperate for my cock up your ass, I think I’ll make you wait just a bit longer.” Derek said, pulling his fingers out of the pairing’s holes. “I’ll let the anticipation build and then when I finally push inside your tight little ass, I’ll have you shaking the walls of this apartment with your screams—having you begging me to fuck deeper and harder—until you’re hanging off the back of your own couch with your mind empty and your tongue hanging out of your mouth like a damn slut.”

Jackson involuntarily let out a noise that sounded something close to a whimper, making Stiles stifle his arrogant laughter into the bend of his own elbow. But just as Stiles was about comment on Jackson’s desperateness with one of his famous snarky comments, he felt Derek’s palms spread open his ass and the fat head of Derek’s cock press against where he was already wet and open from Derek’s prior precise fingering. Instead, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the next hulking intrusion.  

“Fucking— _shit_.” Stiles grunted, grinding his teeth as he felt Derek’s thickness gradually open his hole.

Derek didn’t waste much time. Stiles was more than enough prepared for it—if not for having already taken a few of Derek’s fingers, then for the fact that Stiles obviously wasn’t a stranger to getting his ass ripped apart by random strangers without a moment’s notice. The boy knew how to throw it back and enflame even the coldest of man with fires made of raw sinful lust.

Stiles’ body wildly jolted with each of Derek’s brutal thrusts. He did his best to keep himself from toppling over by clawing his fingers the best that he could into the cushion of the couch, and yet, Derek remained relentless with the increase of speed and the unyielding nature of his movement. Each thrust from behind knocked out a cut-off whine from the depth of Stiles’ throat. He couldn’t help himself. It was like his body’s functionality was quickly unraveling under the touch of Derek’s superior hold.

“Take that fucking cock.” Derek groaned, gripping tightly into the sides of Stiles’ waist. “With all the guys you’ve let take a whack at your pretty little ass, I bet you barely remember their faces. But I’m going to make sure that you remember mine.”

Derek shoved in harder and faster, watching the way that Stiles’ ass bounced and rippled with each of his thrusts. The ferociousness of Derek’s speed kept things loud and unmistakably pornographic. The muscle and thickness of Derek’s hairy thighs slammed up against Stiles’ backside with a rapid pace, shaking the furniture that kept both Stiles and Jackson so readily available for Derek’s access. The neighbors around the two’s apartment would probably hear and most likely complain to the landlord, but seeing as how Derek was the man in charge, he threw any worrying hesitation to the wind.

Abruptly, Derek pulled out of Stiles—gaining himself the pleasure of a whimpering cry of sexual anguish and unrest from Stiles below. Stiles attempted to push backwards against where he could take Derek’s throbbing cock back into the heated depths of his body, but was only met with the palm of Derek’s hand slapping down authoritatively against the beaten redness of Stiles’ cock-hungry hole. Nonetheless, Stiles still groaned at the blazing touch.

Stiles watched enviously as Derek shifted to the side, aligned himself with Jackson’s waiting hole, and then shoved inward with a raspy, ‘your turn’, against the back of Jackson’s neck. Stiles couldn’t help but to compare the service that he had been given by Derek what Jackson was receiving. Whilst Stiles got to enjoy the ruthless speed and force of Derek’s finesse, Jackson got to enjoy a slightly more bestial fury—with a barrage of ass-slapping and grinding. In fact, Stiles watched with genuine thirst at the way Derek would occasionally shove all the way in and then grind inside. Stiles swore that somehow, by some sort of odd connection he had with Jackson, even he could feel how deep Derek was.

From there, Derek fucked into Jackson for a couple more minutes and then switched back to destroying Stiles. He switched back and forth for another good ten minutes of pure, unwavering bombardment—as if he would never tucker out and just continue to fuck the two until they were quite literally liquefied into puddles of sweat, cum, and satisfaction. As if Derek were some sort of mythical sex beast, incapable of ever finding contentment.

In reality, Stiles and Jackson could barely hang on anymore. The two of them were practically dead to the world, eyes half-lidded in a mindless haze. Their bodies remained lax and stationary as Derek continued to switch between the two of them—drilling his cock into each of their holes for a handful of minutes at a time, slurring lewd obscenities into their ears whilst he listened to their moans and oblivious pleas for more and more and more. But then Derek’s body shook with momentous tremors that made him pull out and grasp his hand tightly around the base of his dick to keep from blowing his load.

“Get closer to together.” Derek said breathlessly, helping to push the Stiles and Jackson’s bodies together so that their asses where perfectly side-by-side. “Now use your hands and spread your asses open for me. Let me see your holes.”

Stiles and Jackson did as they were told, albeit sluggishly. The two of them put all of the energy that they could into reaching their own arms and hands back around themselves to hold themselves open, all while their sweaty faces rested tirelessly against the back of the couch. Derek, however, stood firmly behind the two of them and started to stroke himself—staring at the glistening flush of the two thrashed holes that kept displayed under his direction.

With an extremely audible growl of sheer savagery, Derek’s body seized, his muscles flexed, and his cock spewed out continued thick jets of white cum. Derek’s toes curled into the floor of the apartment, whilst he took rightful aim of his own cock and made sure to fairly decorate the spread open holes of Stiles and Jackson, as well as where red palm prints had been scorched into the fair skin of their asses by Derek’s hand. And as he came down from his orgasm and the pumps of his cock failed to produce any more cum, Derek used his fingers to press his seed into his belligerent tenants.  

Derek wiped across his forehead with his arm to clear away his sweat, then reached down to spin both Stiles and Jackson around, so that they were back to sitting properly on the couch—facing them, with their sticky cum-covered asses pressed against the sweat-soaked couch cushions. He eyed where the both of them were still hard and throbbing, as well as how utterly ruined the two of them looked. Derek didn’t have to ask, because he already knew that he had given the two of them some of the best sex they would ever receive in their lives.

“Now, before I leave—grab each other’s cocks and get each other off.” Derek demanded, crouching down to sit atop the coffee table that was right in front of the couch.

Stiles and Jackson reached over and grabbed onto each other cocks, firmly grasping their fingers around the familiar girths. As they stroked each other good and fast, the fact that their landlord was sitting across from them and watching seemed to fade away from their sex-maddened minds. They turned to one another and locked lips like they had earlier—closing their eyes and falling into the motion of their hands gliding against one another’s hot skin.

Simultaneously, the two erupted—spilling splashes of hot cum across each other’s knuckles. Their eyes remained closed and their tongues continued to wrestle as non-subtle moans dripped out of their throats and feed themselves into Derek’s attentive ears. And as they came down from their coinciding orgasms, they let their breathing settle and let their minds slump back into the same languid state that they had been in after Derek had fucked their brains out.

“Consider yourselves lucky.” Derek said, standing up from the coffee table. He pulled up his pants and boxers, buckled his belt, and sucked off the remnants of cum from his fingertips. “I’ve decided to take what we just did as payment for your unpaid rent, but don’t go on thinking that you can trade over your asses in place of a check for the next few months until your lease is up.”

“R—receipt.” Jackson breathed, sitting up slightly from the couch. “Give us a damn receipt—”

“Yeah, we don’t want to hear your bitching about us not paying off this debt when you miraculously forget exactly what you got instead of money.” Stiles finished.

Derek laughed, turning around to head for the door. “The emptiness that you feel deep inside where you still want my cock to be rammed into, the cum you feel leaking down your used holes, and the inescapable soreness you’re going to feel when you fall out of bed tomorrow morning and limp your way over to your classes for the day—accept _that_ as your proof of payment.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Please leave comments, kudos, suggestions, and critiques. I'd love to hear! Thanks for reading!


End file.
